Winter War
by Rivenoir
Summary: Finland and Russia in the battlefields. Will one of them fall on the fateful day?  T for Violence


**Well hey there all! So yeah, I'm pretty much aware that I haven't updated TCoM, I SWEAR I'LL GET TO IT. As an apology, I've planned another oneshot and an update for that story. And of course, this one, which isn't about Norway for once.**

**This is taken from an RP with myself as Finland and my good friend, which I'll just call Vanya as Russia. **

**P.S. PM me if you wanna RP with me on Facebook. ;D And maybe add Vanya too. /shamelessly advertising. **

**I actually roleplay all the Nordics. /no lifer**

**SO ANYWAY, I don't own Finland, Russia and Hetalia**

**ENJOY!**

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><p>The tranquillity of the snow peaked mountains was shattered by the loud sound of a stray gunshot, scattering birds shrieking as they fled. A metal 'clank' was soon to follow as the head of a large bloodied faucet pipe came into contact with the ground forcefully, staining the pristine snow a dark red. Amethyst eyes narrowed with displeasure as Russia regarded the other with a frigid smile, tilting his head slightly as if in question.<p>

"This is getting boring. Finland should just give up and become one with Russia, da?"

Raising a gloved hand to wipe off the trickle of blood from the wound a bullet had created when it grazed his cheek, the Russian cocked his own gun and fired, darting forward from the side and swinging his pipe again.

"Stop being stubborn~ Russia promises to take good care of you and your people~"

Both nations grew in wintry conditions, and therefore, Russia no longer has the advantage. It was a challenge in attempting to tame Finland, especially when his leader's rash actions have drastically weakened the Soviet state and when Finland was being so difficult...

The Finn frowned as he readjusted his beret. He looked around him, a battlefield full of deaths. The snow was no longer pure, he mused, distracting himself from the yells and the gunfire around. He did not bother replying the Russian, for his answer was clear. There was no way that he would surrender to the Soviets. The decision he had made was not just for his own Nation, but it was also for the sake of the Nordics. He quick-stepped backwards hurriedly, hoping to maintain a distance from the dangerous foe. He might have a chance in close combat, but it was not worth the risk. As he tried to keep his balance, he brought his own rifle up, wincing a little as pain shot up from a wound in his shoulder, clipped by a stray ricochet shot.

The Finn moving backwards only made the Russian more adamant to close in on him. Firing several shots at the other, Russia took a leap forward in an attempt to draw their distance closer.

"Nyet~ Do not run from me, Finland~ You know Russia will chase after you until you are mine."

Kicking the snow up as a temporary diversion, the sneaky pale blonde nation lunged forward and swung his beloved faucet pipe again, hoping to get a solid hit.

"Come on now, dear~ You know there is no escape. Everybody will eventually become one with Russia, da? If you refuse, then-"

_"I'll just have to make you~ Kolkolkol~"_

His next sentence was said in a carefree sing-songy tune, as though they were having a chat in a park. The sadistic nation laughed and aimed at another soldier who had been attempting to creep up on him, giggling with malicious glee as his blood splashed onto the ground. Finland managed to strafe to the side, effectively preventing him from being hit. However, he felt the bullets whizzing by his ear. It had hurt a little.

"Chase all you want Venäjä, I will not fall, and neither will my nation." He determinedly yelled back. Seeing the incoming attack, he managed to throw himself to the side, but he felt the impact on his right leg. It had hurt, a lot.

Finland made good use of the distraction at the price of his comrade; he hurriedly got himself standing back up, clenching his teeth together as the pain jolted from his now injured leg. Wasting no time, he quickly aimed his rifle at the Russian and fired a three round burst.

Russia clicked his teeth in frustration, eerie smile still in place.

"Such a testing nation. I think I will quite enjoy breaking you, da."

The Russian watched with cold cruel eyes as the other's face contorted in pain, brittle smile growing wider. Ivan was about to launch another merciless attack when the other managed to surprise him. The shots slammed into him, impact great and brutal. Stumbling unsteadily backwards a few steps, the Russian rightened himself again. The rounds had stung! So mean of Finland when Russia was only doing this for his own good!

Part of his left shoulder bore the brunt of the impact, partly fractured and, the Russian suspected, shattered. The Russian watched with morbid fascination as blood started to seep out, devouring his coat with a brilliant red.

_Ah~ so nations are capable of bleeding this much too~_

Amethyst eyes narrowed with anger.

"Finland, that was very mean of you, da. Russia will not take this lightly."

Ignoring the pain of his left shoulder, the Russian swung his pipe, sweeping the snow upwards in a blanket of white as he fired a few more shots, darting to the right of the other nation and jabbing the pipe hard.

Tino had a momentary smile of triumph as he saw that his shots had dealt some damaged. Alas, the happiness was short lived. No sooner than the minute celebration within him, he was coughing and knocked over back into the snow. He felt something impact his chest near his heart. Looking down, he saw blood starting to flow, staining his military uniform and the cloak he had worn. It did not hurt. At least not yet. The shock had totally blocked out the pain. "I'm not going to let you win this battle..." He knew that he did not have much further to go before he could lure the Russian man nearer to the base, where the snipers were positioned at.

He tried to pull himself away from the Russian, but his whole body was protesting. In a desperate attempt, he pointed a pistol at the Russia's head. A secondary weapon used for emergencies. "Come any closer, and I'll shoot," he warned. He never doubted his aiming, but he did not want to kill the man.

"Well, not if Russia shoots first~ I have a favour to return, da?"

The larger nation replied easily, raising his gun, aiming for Finland's shoulder before pulling the trigger again at a much closer distance. Raising his leg, he kicked at the other's raised gun, stepping down ruthlessly on Finland's arm.

"It is not a question on whether you allow it or not. You will become one with Russia in the end eventually."

A small part of him wished that the other would give in to his demands and come quietly, for the Russian had no wish to damage the other too much.

_However, who knows what will happen if the Finn continued to struggle~_

Finland was about to protest, but his speech was cut short by a loud cry of pain. He no longer knew whether it was because of the bullet now embedded in his flesh, the pain from his arm, the pain from his body or the pain of defeat. He knew that he could not continue fighting anymore, but he knew that he could not allow himself and his nation to lose. He did not struggle, for his body no longer allowed it. He knew what he was doing might risk him his life, but he did not care.

Defiantly, he looked up at the Russian, before yelling at him, anger overflowing. "En ole pelkuri. Kill me if you must. The White Guards will crush you Red Guards!" He never broke his glare, challenging him.

"Such harsh words you speak, Finland. I never said anything about killing you, did I?"

Assured that Finland no longer had the ability to resist, the Russian knelt down and tilted his head as he observed the other carefully. Since he could resist no longer, it wouldn't hurt to ask a few questions that he had always intended to ask, would it now?

"Why is Finland so adamant in resisting Russia? What is so bad about becoming one? Wouldn't it be better if all of us are united? There would be no quarrels if everyone had the same things, da?"

Tino hated it, being so helpless. At least if he had died in this war, he would die with honour and not be recognized as one who cowered and died trying to run away with his life. He continued glaring at the Russian, keeping an air of contempt around him, trying to deter the Russian. He snarled when he felt the physical contact.

"I am an independent nation, and I would rather keep it that way." He did not want to explain himself to the Russian, for it was rather self-explanatory. It was his loyalty and patriotism for his country which he loved.

"Ah, then it is too bad. Russia has to follow his orders," the Russian sighed heavily, as if lamenting the other's choice," Russia still thinks Finland should cooperate, da? Maybe Russia's boss will go easy on you and your people then. I would hate to have to damage you completely~ You will come live with me. Maybe then, you will see that it is not so bad..."

As though making up his own mind, the Russian straightened and looked around for a few moments before finding what he was searching for. Ivan shifted the other onto the remains of what was previously a shield, coiling an unused rope around it and began dragging the other forward.

Finland would come to see in time that things weren't entirely that bad. Perhaps, with a little luck and patience, they could even become friends.

_Ah… Russia likes the sound of that._

Throwing the rope around his uninjured shoulder, the Russian began pulling the other forward. It took Tino a while before he registered what was going on. He was the least bit happy about what the Russian was about to do. Even if he survives the war, he would be living in shame.

"Ei. If I die, I will die on the battlefield. Finland will not go to Russia. No matter what."

In his slight moment of rage, he quickly rolled off the makeshift sled. The adrenaline was kicking in. He hoped that the sudden disappearance of his weight would cause the Russian to trip, for every single second was vital in his plan. He started to make his way to the base, stumbling. He held his gloved hands to his wound, feeling light-headed as the blood left his body. He never figured if a Nation would die of injuries. Perhaps he would figure it out in due time. His legs could not carry him at the speed he had hoped, for the damage to it was too much. He did not have his rifle with him, lowering the weight he had to carry, quickening his pace by a little. However, any small advantage, the Finn would treasure.

Not anticipating the abrupt move, the Russian stumbled, losing his balance. Slipping on ice, both nations were sent tumbling down a steep slope. Finland was the first to recover, getting to his feet in an unstable manner, stumbling forwards. Russia gave a low growl of pain and annoyance, struggling to his feet as he watched the other nation attempt to escape from him again. The larger nation followed after Finland, taking wide hurried steps. Catching up with the injured other was easily done, especially when Russia wasn't nearly as injured, and the Russian caught up with him in no time. Lips curled up in a contemptuous snarl, the Russian raised a hand, deciding to make the other pay for his disobedience.

_But little did he know, he was right in Finland's trap._

As he stumbled, the Finn saw the tell-tale sign of a sniper rifle. The glint of the metal, right before the sniper takes the shot. He knew that he was safe now, and that Russia was the one that is in danger. A single shot to the head would end a human's life, no doubt. He started a countdown in his head. Yet, he knew that the Russian did not deserve this kind of ploy. The wars were caused by the Governments, and the blonde had seen enough deaths today. He knew that the Russians were suffering a lot more than the Finnish troops.

Using the little bit of his strength; he grabbed onto the Russian's hand and threw him to the ground. A split-second later, the deafening sound of sniper fire was heard, and a trail of smoke whizzed by the pair. For a man of a smaller build, his strength was not one to be underestimated.

Russia released a small noise of surprise as he was unceremoniously thrown to the ground. Disorientated, the Russian took several moments to recover his wits. Tensing as gunfire shots whizzed past him, Ivan's seemingly perpetual smile disappeared in favour of a wide scowl. It appears that crafty little Finland had led him straight into a trap. Crouching down as low as he could, the Russian narrowed his eyes in the direction of where the shots came from, attempting to make out how many snipers there were. Even as he tried, there was no doubt that Russia was outnumbered. He may be a nation and the chances of him really dying were low, however, snipe shots still hurt like hell.

Uttering a feral growl, the Russian returned fire, cursing irately when he ran out of bullets. Fixing his glare at Finland, Ivan grounded out.

"Call them off. Now."

Finland was taken aback by how irrational Russia was in his rage. Trying to use a normal pistol to shoot the snipers was near impossible, and one would probably have to be very lucky to score a hit. Tino ambled backwards, recovering distance from the Russian. Everything would be in vain if he had decided to use the Finn as a hostage. But then again, his sniper units were deadly and accurate.

_Perhaps the White Death is amongst them this fateful day?_

The Finn mused. His thought train ended as the Russian threatened him. "Who are you to threaten me...?" He stared down at the Russian. The Russian chose not to answer the other's haughty response, opting to shoot out a hand, catching Finland around his injured leg and yanking him closer. Russia's eyes gleamed with the promise of danger as he pinned the other down; squeezing Finland's neck tightly with a hand, not caring if he'd choked the other at this point. Ivan's smile returns as he dug his fingers into one of Finland's wounds.

"And who are you to speak to Russia with such insolence? It is only natural that I would react in such a manner, da? "

It was certain that victory lies with Finland this time. But Russia is not one to let them win that easily. If he were to be defeated, then he will make sure the enemy suffers a great deal of pain first~

Finland felt the cold seeping into his body from his back, being in contact with the cold snow. Suddenly, he could not breathe. He felt an immense pressure being applied on his throat. He tried not to panic when he knew that his air supply was cut off, for that would make him suffocate a whole lot faster, and the Finn definitely would not like that to happen to him. His eyes widened as he felt the effects of Russia's doing. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. Overwhelmed with pain, he thrashed around for a moment, before feeling his body failing him. He looked at Russia with wide, pleading eyes, hoping to let him go. Yet, he knew that if he died in this war, he brought his nation not shame, but honour.

"I believe I have made my point, da?"

The Russian stated coldly as he removed his fingers after one more painful dig, loosening his grip on the other's throat so that he could breathe again.

"It does not matter if Russia is defeated today. Because Russia's boss will try over and over again until there is success."

"But-", the wintry nation continued on," That doesn't mean Russia will not try hard to talk him out of it. I admire your determination and resilience, Finland. It would be a pity if we have to hurt each other more. So now, I am asking you again. Will you call your troops off?"

Amethyst eyes softened into what seemed like sincerity as Russia spoke, as though attempting to coax the other into relenting.

Finland closed his eyes as he tried to withstand the damage Russia was inflicting on him. It was a cruel and slow torture. Tino gasped as he hurriedly inhaled in the air as the Russian let go of his throat. He soon regretted it as he broke into a bout of coughing. The cold air was painful to inhale in quickly, everyone knew that. He looked at Russia hesitantly as he gingerly rubbed his throat. He considered the proposal for a while but the answer was clear for what the Russian said made sense.

He nodded. "I will call my troops off... But we'll most likely see each other in the battlefields again." His voice was hoarse, no doubt. And it hurts as he tried to force each word out.

"Good," the Russian nodded, shifting so that the other could breathe easier. The wintry nation shifted, eyeing Finland warily even though the other should not be able to do much for now.

"We will see about that," he chose to reply in a neutral manner to his opponent's words.

The competitive Russian loathed the idea of losing to the other, and yet, there was no other choice. This battle was his loss. It was his mistake to lower his guard and allow Finland the chance to catch him in a trap. This time, he shall have to admit his loss and leave if he wants another opportunity. Russia reluctantly placed his pride away and raised both hands.

"I concede defeat. Now, call your troops off, da?"

The Finn nodded as he continued laying on the snow. "Indeed, we shall." He found it a little funny how a little trap and some planning could turn a battle around. He managed to sit up with some difficulty. With a light smile found on the Finn's face, he raised his arm up and made a fist. It was the preplanned signal to call of the battle. The Finns had long expected this one to be difficult, and had made many precautions beforehand.

He turned back to Russia. "Joo, that is done. You can go back now, knowing well that the Finnish troops would cease fire."

"I trust you will keep to your word?" Russia replied as he scrutinised the other's face carefully for any sign of deceit. The distrusting nation was never one to believe in anyone easily. Tilting his head to the side, he gestured at the other side.

"Russia would prefer it if you go back to your people while Russia leaves."

To show that he had no tricks up against his sleeve, the Russian began inching his way away from them, ready to react to any sign of hostility.

"Joo, of course." Finland was a lot more relieved now that he knew that he was safe, and alive. Or at least in this battle. He did not want any more deaths, and he knew that it would affect both armies if the fighting continued.

He pushed himself up, wincing a little as his body protested again. He dusted himself, being careful of the shoulder wound and nodded. He turned around and headed to the encampment of the Finnish troops, before turning his head and called out to the Russian.

"I wish that the war would end, but we all know that it's hardly possible. See you in the battlefield, _Ivan_."

"Da. See you~"

The russian replied with a sing-songy tune to his voice as the cold smile returns to his face once more in a false appearance of sheer. Russia stood, watching the other make his way to the encampment for a few good moments before ambling towards his own.

As the distance between them grew further, amethyst eyes darkened with vindictive malice.

_ "Next time..."_

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><p>En ole pelkuri - I am not a coward<p>

**So anyway, yes, it's based on the Winter War.**

**Hope you've enjoyed reading this, and please don't forget to review!**

**P.S, we would love it if you people could give us some plots in between Russia and the Nordics, and we'll do it!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Cheers,**

**_Stygian Vedrfolnir_  
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